I think poetry
At least I think I think poetry
Even if I am thinking of what to buy at the grocery store
Or what to write in an email to a client
It is a poem
I think it must be poetry,
Because my thoughts are not thoughts at all,
Instead, my thoughts are dried brown leaves crunched beneath my feet along the autumn sidewalk
My thoughts are blooming marigolds exploding through the gaps of the wrought iron fence
My thoughts are a school bus filled with children jumping, playing, and laughing
My thoughts are rose hips in the sun ―plump, round, and the color of lovers’ lips
My thoughts are caterpillars feeding in the trees preparing to cocoon
My thoughts are all of these, yet none of these
But this poem is just a thought
Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column 7x appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.
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